What the Future May Bring
by HowlynMad
Summary: When Future Peter comes back to ask Present Peter for his help with Sylar, he gets much more than he bargained for when he and Sylar are put in a life or death situation where they must work together or perish... Peter/Sylar Slash, some violence, adult language. PG14
1. Chapter 1

What the Future May Bring

Future Peter comes back to tell his past self of a future where Sylar is all powerful and he has a unique solution.

Peter and Peter, Sunnydale, California

Peter was looking into his own face, scarred. His future self. "You again."

"I don't have long before he knows I've time traveled. He told me he'd kill me .. for good, if I tried it."

"What? What the hell is going on? Why are you here again?"

"I'm from the far future, Peter. Thirty years from now. And no matter how I approach it, it's always the same. We can't stop it from happening.. but maybe we can change the way it happens."

"You're not making any sense."

"Hiro tried to jump ahead twenty five years and he hit a psychic brick wall. I sensed his presence too late to help him. That's the only reason, I was able to lock into this time period and return here. He's made sure there's no way back."

Peter looked at him curiously, "Yeah, it almost killed him. He's catatonic or something. What does it all mean? I mean it's not.."

"The end of the world? I suppose in a way it is. The end of the world as we know it. Sylar."

Peter rolled his eyes. "What's he done now?"

"He achieved his goal. He evolved."

"Into what?"

"For lack of a better description, a god. He's all powerful, unstoppable. His whim is manifest. Can you begin to understand what that means for humanity? He has no conscience, no empathy."

"Doesn't sound like much has changed then."

"But that's just it Pete, it has. We thought he was a monster when he was taking brains but that was just the beginning. He's gone mad."

"That's not a big leap either." Peter sighed, "If it's as bad as you say what can I do about it?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe everything. Remember mom's butterfly wings? We can't really change the timeline in a big way but we can make little changes that can cause huge events to shift in the right direction. We still end up in the same place but the outcome can change. Make sense?"

"I don't know. Sorta."

"I need your help."

"I get that, but why me? Every time I've come up against Sylar it's ended badly for me. I can't beat him."

"I don't want you to fight him, Peter. That won't change anything. I'm here because I'm one of the few that he tolerates."

"I don't understand."

"I told you. We can't really alter the big things by traveling through time. There are events that are fixed within the continuum. Sylar is one of those things. He will be the first of humanity to evolve and that can't be changed."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to change what he becomes."

"How can I do that? You just said..."

"Sylar has no empathy for anyone and part of that comes from the fact that he has no connection to anyone or anything. But he is capable of it. He's reached out here in the past for that connection. Once with our family."

"Yeah, but that was all our mother's scheme to use his powers for her own ends. You must know how that turned out."

"Yes, but he still stopped our father from remaking the world in his own twisted image. He kept you from having to kill our father. I think that makes my point for me. He didn't have to step in, he could have let the events play out."

"Sylar never did like competition. He always does what's best for Sylar. And even if he did feel some sort of connection to our family, it was pretty much blown to hell when he found out that mom played him for a fool."

"It'll be harder now I realize, but if someone doesn't reach out to him before it's too late there won't be anything left to save."

"Reach out? What are you smoking? You think he's looking for a friend? The only thing Sylar wants is abilities. That's his sole purpose, it always comes down to that."

"This could be our last chance. At this point in time, he still feels human emotions. He still has human needs and desires. And while he does, he can be influenced. You saw him with his son in the alternate timeline. There are possibilities."

Peter thought back to the strange future where he and Sylar were still brothers. It was almost impossible to wrap your mind around the idea that Sylar could reform unless you'd seen it yourself. But he had, he'd become a good father to his child. Though even then, he had admitted that his hunger was still with him, always would be. "You think he can be reformed?"

"No. I think it's probably too late for that," Future Peter considered. "He's never going to be a good guy, but at this point humanity will just settle for him not being the most destructive force on the planet."

"And you think this will somehow stop that? Stop him?" the odd image of Sylar in the kitchen making waffles came to mind.

"I don't know for sure. All I know is he is unreachable in my time. He has no connection to humanity and as such we are less than animals to him. He is all powerful and he is alone."

Something suddenly occurred to Peter. "Why not talk to Suresh? Sylar seems to be attached to him. Anytime he has a problem he ends up on Mohinder's doorstep."

"I thought about that but their relationship is too complicated by the past. Mohinder could never do what needs to be done. He can't forgive him for Chandra's death."

"Why should he?" Peter shook his head. "Sylar has hurt a lot of people in a lot of ways. Not just the killing for power. Do you have any idea what he did to Claire? Now you're asking me to reach out to him? Offer him forgiveness? I've got a newsflash for you. He doesn't want forgiveness and he sure as hell doesn't deserve it," he said with conviction.

"And yet that one act of kindness might be enough to alter the future, to save humanity from an insane god. Isn't it worth trying?"

"He knows when you're lying."

"So don't lie. Why do you think I came to you? You mean what you say Pete and Sylar knows that. You're the only one that can find something good in anyone."

"Not anyone."

"If you can find good in Sylar then you can make a connection with him. You aren't an empath for nothing, Pete. You have that grace within you. He made that leap with you when he thought you were his brother. He saved your life more than once. Now I'm asking you to make that leap yourself."

"I'm not his brother."

"Not by birth maybe, but all of us with abilities are interconnected in ways that we have yet to understand. We've seen that over and over. Please. Try."

"I don't get it. Why can't you just do it? You're here now.."

"I told you. I can't stay. If he doesn't already realize where I've gone he will soon and he'll find me and kill me.. or worse."

"So what stops him from coming back and changing things himself?"

"He knows what a monumentally bad idea it is to mettle in time. You can easily make things worse instead of better. He won't come back here. He won't interfere."

"You're not taking your own advice?"

"Believe me, nothing could be worse than the future that humanity is going to face. He takes out all his misery on those around him. You have no idea what that means. I'm the only one that even has the power it takes to journey back."

"Hiro?"

Future Peter just shook his head in response.

"How do you expect me to even find him?"

Future Peter smiled. "I already know where he is."

"Of course you do. It's not like I have a choice is it?"

"You have a choice, Pete, but the future of humanity doesn't."

"I have no idea how to go about approaching him. He's going to try and tear me apart."

Future Peter shrugged, "You'll heal."

"Yeah, thanks for the concern."

"Though it would solve all our problems if he would take your empathic ability."

"That's not going to happen. He knows what it would mean."

Future Peter looked thoughtful, "Unless he completely lost control. It might be possible to push him that far."

"There's no way I would try that. I've been there remember? I felt that hunger. I don't wish that on anyone, not even Sylar."

"I remember, too clearly. I thought I would lose my mind with the hunger, thought I already had. We would have killed our mother you know. He stopped us." Future Peter searched his younger counterparts eyes. "I guess it's amazing that he's retained any humanity."

"Such as it is.."

"Yeah," Future Peter smiled. "You have a point. You ready?"

"No, but let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Sylar sat sipping his ice tea and watching the ebb and flow of humanity around him. He'd been back in town just a couple of days and he'd already found a new ability just waiting to be absorbed. New York really was a melting pot. He had found so many specials lost in the throng of the ordinary here. Maybe that was the reason. It was after all, easier to blend in, at least for most people.

Not so with him, the New York police were still looking to question him for his mother's death. They didn't really have any hard evidence but their interest would be most unwelcome and if they annoyed him enough he might just do something about it. He didn't need that kind of attention.

He looked at his watch. Nine thirty three on the dot. Despite the blunt impact that cracked the crystal on his antique wristwatch, it ran perfectly, down to the second. He would spend at least fifteen minutes every other day tuning it. It was a symbol of his transformation, his past and future combined.

He pulled a five dollar bill from his wallet and tossed it on the table. It was time. His quarry would arrive sometime between now and ten as he always did. And he would be ready.

Sylar walked slowly around the block. He was close. There was a person of ability somewhere nearby. He could sense him. He was getting a lot better at detection. Once someone used an ability the residue of that power created fluctuations that he could detect for hours, sometimes even days, after the fact.

His gift of intuitive aptitude was evolving, growing stronger. And the stronger it grew the stronger his other adopted abilities grew. He understood more and more of the world behind the world and with each passing day he became something more than he was the day before. He felt he was on the edge of something monumental. He just wasn't quite sure what.

Until he figured it out, he would continue to do what felt right and hunting people with abilities felt right. He could still pretend like he had a choice, like he could stop if he wanted. But the truth was there was no going back, not now. He was a monster, the boogeyman in little girls' dreams. There was no reason to continue to fight it, no reason to hope that he could be more than just a killer. Trying to be what others wanted only caused more pain and grief. They would always betray him in the end so it was better to disconnect now.

Sylar stopped up short. A flood of power washed over him in a rush. He cocked his head, it felt... different somehow. This ability felt more powerful than the one he had been tracking earlier. Either his quarry had been holding back or this was something new. Another "special" perhaps? He looked around trying to ascertain where the energy was originating from. The alley half way down and to the left, he smiled. _Come out, come out, wherever you are_. A game of cat and mouse might be fun. Something to take his mind off the complexities of what he was becoming, a simple challenge of life and death. It was just what he needed.

Peter peered around the corner of building. This was Sylar's third pass around the block. He was honing in on someone. It was clear by his behavior he was on the hunt for power. He would be at his most dangerous. Peter considered that he could just wait and find him again tomorrow but quickly discarded the idea. If left to his own devices Sylar would kill... tonight. And he wasn't about to stand around and let someone die, not if he could prevent it.

What would be his best course of action in this situation? Should he just confront him and tell him he needed to talk with him? Oh yeah, that would go over well. "Excuse me Sylar, can I buy you a cup of coffee? I think we need to have a chat." He could already hear the laughter in his head, right before Sylar sliced him into little pieces. He took a deep breath, no use putting it off. He would just have to improvise and see where it took him. He looked around the corner again... and he was gone. Sylar had disappeared.

"No, no, no," he muttered. This just wasn't happening. Someone was in a lot of trouble. Peter dashed out onto the sidewalk and looked up and down the street. Nothing. He ran his hand nervously through his hair, "Oh god."

"Not quite," a smug voice answered.

Peter spun around to come face to face with Sylar. Before he even got a word out of his mouth he was propelled backwards into a parked car, shattering the windshield.

Sylar casually strode towards him, the familiar smirk in place on his lips. "Were you looking for me, Peter? Or did you just get very unlucky?"

Peter struggled against the invisible force that pinned him to the front of the car. Well, this was going just as badly as he thought it would. "Sylar, wait. Wait!"

Sylar regarded him like one would look at an insect that had just made a splat on the windshield, "Why?"

"I want to talk to you. just.. just let me up. Ok?"

Sylar chuckled, "No Peter, it's not ok. You have nothing to say, I want to hear." He raised his hand and a high-pitched shriek echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings.

"No!" Peter shouted. Sylar could and would shred him with that sound. He lashed out with everything he had and Sylar was tossed back, slamming into the back of a parked van. He crumbled to the ground.

Peter slid off the hood of the car, every muscle in his body protesting the abuse. He took a step towards the van but Sylar was already on his feet. He put his hands up in a placating gesture, "I don't want to fight with you. Just hear me out!"

A bolt of electric current slammed into him peeling away skin and tissue, Peter screamed into the maelstrom. Sylar was even stronger than the last time they fought. The bright pain subsided and Peter hit the ground, his body smoking.

"Smells like barbeque," Sylar laughed. He wiped blood from the side of his head where it had struck the van. The wound had already completely healed. Peter struggled to rise as his body put itself back together piece by piece. "Come on, is that all you got Petrelli?, he taunted. Sylar circled him, "Always interfering, you and your pathetic need to save the world. You should have just left me alone."

"I can't do that," Peter rasped.

Sylar stopped circling and watched as Peter's body formed new pink skin. "It's all in the brain, you know. Coded into every molecule of us but controlled through the brain. So unless I miss my guess, if I disintegrate every cell in your head you won't be getting back up.. ever." He wiggled his fingers at the downed man. "It takes an awful lot of power to completely obliterate matter. I should know. Elle tore me apart more than once and yet here I am."

"Will you just stop for a minute! I didn't come here so we could play these games." Peter raised himself up slowly. The pain fading to dull ache.

"No, you came here to die."

"Is that always what it's about with you? Pain, and death, destruction? Is that what you really want?"

Sylar rolled his eyes, "What is it you're selling today, Petrelli? I learned my lesson with that nest of vipers you call a family. Jesus, I thought I was screwed up, got nothing on you, do I?"

"No, probably not," Peter shook his head wearily. "I'm the first one to admit to the many sins of my family. But I won't give up, and odd as this sounds, I know you won't either."

"Enough bullshit," Sylar rumbled. He raised his hands and Peter felt a vice-like grip constrict his throat. "This may take awhile. I've never tried to vaporize someone's head before. It'll probably hurt... a lot. Scream if you want, no one comes out around here at night."

Suddenly Peter felt a pressure building in his head. He imagined it was what it must feel like to have your brains boiled inside your head. It was excruciating. Sylar stood a few feet away his hand extended, his expression a study in concentration. He meant to do it. Kill him. He'd tried to warn his future self that reaching out to the killer would be a lesson in futility. Now he would pay for it with his life.

Sylar focused his energies into a narrower and narrower field. He'd only recently learned how to combine the abilities within him to generate even more power. It wasn't one hundred percent yet but the implications were staggering. Now he could test his limits, see just how far he had come in his evolution. He didn't really hate Peter, not like he did the others. But the guy was such a Pollyanna, he got what he deserved.

"Enough!"

Sylar turned at the shout to find himself facing... Peter? He cocked his head, "Someone isn't playing fair," he noted. He lashed out towards the intruder but found that everything around him was slowing down. His limbs felt as if they were made of lead. Son of a bitch was a time traveler.

His eyes had filled with blood and he could no longer see. Peter's world had narrowed to this blinding pain... and then he saw a hand reaching down to him. "He won't respect you if you can't stand up to him," Future Peter said drily.

"Gee, thanks for your concern. The son of a bitch was going to kill me! I told you this wouldn't work. He's a monster plain and simple. No amount of talking to him will make a difference."

Future Peter looked at him oddly. "You may be right. I may not have thought this through."

"You think?" Peter took deep gasping breaths as his body finally healed.

"To forge a bond, there has to be a reason that he will accept." Future Peter looked over to where Sylar stood, still as a statue. "You both need to rely on one another."

"Excuse me? Were you just listening to anything I just said? I tried and it won't work. I'm sorry but you can't reach him. I can't reach him."

Future Peter gave him a crooked smile. "We'll see."

Everything went white.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Peter awoke with a start. His head felt like it was full of cotton. He was lying face down on hard, compacted soil. He rolled over and was hit in the face by the brilliance of the afternoon sun. What the hell was this? He sat up, squinting into the distance at... nothing. He swung around searching for anything familiar but in all directions there was nothing but endless desert.

And Sylar.

Lying ten feet away, was the long, lanky, figure of the serial killer. His head was turned away but Peter knew he was still unconscious. Sylar wasn't the type to play possum. If he had awakened first, Peter knew he wouldn't have awakened at all.

Peter stood up shakily, he felt like he had been drugged, which he probably had. His future self had done this. What was it Future Peter had said just before he had blacked out? " _To forge a bond, you'll need to rely on each other."_ This couldn't be good. They could be anywhere... anywhen. He looked back to where Sylar lay. How the hell was he going to explain this?

Future Peter was insane, that was the only explanation for this situation, Peter thought. How could the man think that kidnapping Sylar would make him more amiable? He was going to be livid and the killer would take out his rage on him. He took a deep breath. He had to come up with a plan and quickly.

He could just start walking, leave Sylar where he lay. But what would that accomplish? His future self had a goal in all of this and if he didn't play along he could, very well, leave them here forever. Wherever here was, he looked out towards the horizon.

He looked back at Sylar again. There wasn't much choice, which had been his counterpart's intention. Might as well just get it over with, putting it off wouldn't change anything. Circling the prone form, Peter noted that Sylar's eyes were closed and his breath steady. Whatever drugs his future self had used they were able to take down not only himself but Sylar as well. That meant that Future Peter had some workable weapons against the killer. But that didn't matter much here.

Peter took a couple of hesitant steps closer and called out, "Sylar. Sylar, wake up." There was no response. Peter raised his hand in preparation and stepped up next to the killer. "Sylar. Get up." He nudged him with his shoe and was rewarded with a small moan.

Sylar brought his arm up and Peter took a quick step back, his abilities at ready. The killer had opened his eyes but they appeared unfocused and rolled back in his head. "Sylar?"

Against his better judgment, Peter knelt down next to the prone man and gave him a small shake. Another quiet moan and Sylar's eyes blinked open but saw nothing. "Sylar, can you hear me? Sylar," this time Peter gave him a good shake.

Sylar's eyes flew open and he rolled over trying to come to his feet, only managing to fall back to his hands and knees. He squinted against the glare and snarled, "What did you do?"

Peter took a few steps back and brought his hands up in a placating manner. "I didn't do anything. It wasn't me, I swear."

Sylar came unsteadily to his feet, swaying to and fro. He was taking in his surroundings and if his expression was any indication, he didn't like what he saw. "What.. did.. you.. do?" he bit out the words.

"This wasn't my doing, ok. I'm stuck here just like you."

Sylar had leaned over and put his hands against his knees, his head hanging down. He looked as if he were going to pass out. "I believe you," he offered in a slurred tongue.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. Sylar's ability as a lie detector, in this case, was a good thing.

Sylar brought himself up to his full height, "I saw you Peter, another you. He do this?"

Peter nodded. "Listen, we can figure this out together. We don't have to turn this into a battle."

"You already did that when you brought me here."

"I didn't.." before he could finish the sentence a bolt of white hot energy shot out towards him. Peter dove left and was missed by scant inches.

"As if one of you isn't bad enough? Now I've got some kind of time traveling future Pollyanna riding my ass?" Sylar took a shaky step forward. "But I bet... if I kill you, he'll come back. What do you think?" he raised his hand.

Peter threw a telekinetic potshot at Sylar hitting him square in the chest and knocking him off his feet. He scrambled into a defensive position prepared for what Sylar would throw at him next, but the killer didn't move.

Peter got his breathing under control and hesitated only a moment before walking towards Sylar. He was barely conscious. Whatever his future self had drugged him with was potent and he doubted the dose was accidental. Future Peter knew that Sylar's first instinct would be to kill first and ask questions later. So his future self had doped Sylar to the gills in order to give him a better chance. A better chance at what? It was insane to think that he could befriend this monster.

Peter turned in a circle, once then twice.

What the hell was he expected to do now? There was nothing in any direction except a few scrub-brush. Putting his hand above his eyes, Peter thought he could just make out a mountain range in the far distance. It was their only chance. Without water, they would die.. again and again and again. It would not be pleasant. They needed water, food, and shelter from the elements. Once they had that, they could come up with a plan. They, he kept saying they. Sylar might well decide he would rather die over and over than join forces with him. He was that arrogant. Well, he would just have to change the man's mind.

Peter made a decision, the only one he could make. He knelt down and got his arm around Sylar, "Get up, we can't stay out here or we'll die. I, for one, don't want to go through that, so put one foot in front of the other and move!" He tugged and cajoled until Sylar stood wobbling on his feet. "This way, come on."

Sylar didn't object to the contact, in fact, he didn't say a word but instead stumbled ahead as he was told. Peter was grateful but he knew it wouldn't last. No matter what drugs he'd been given his superhuman constitution would be breaking it down even now. It wouldn't be long before Sylar was fully functioning again. And when that happened...

Sylar stumbled again almost pitching them both to the ground. Peter re-secured his hold and felt the man tense. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

"Saving your life, so how about you don't give me any grief," Peter spat. He wasn't in the mood for any of Sylar's shit right now. He was hot and he was thirsty and that mountain range didn't look any closer than it had an hour ago.

Sylar seemed to get his feet under him and he pulled away from Peter's grip almost dumping himself headfirst into the dirt in the process. Peter took a step back, tensing for action. At least he'd had a couple of hours to work the drugs out of his own system before Sylar decided to try and kill him again. He still had the advantage.

Sylar was much more alert, his eyes sharp. He scanned the landscape and snorted disgustedly. "Figures. Even your future self is too much of a wimp to just kill me and be done with it." He cocked his head curiously, "But why are you here?"

"Does it matter? I just want to find a way out of this mess. I think we have a better chance at success if we work together. How about we call a truce until we figure out how to get back to where we belong?"

A low laugh was his response. "What do I need you for?"

"My future self put us here together for a reason, if we want to get home I think we should stick together that's all." Sylar looked like he was trying to dissect him with his eyes. It gave Peter a chill even in the desert heat. Sylar's intuitive aptitude, that's what they called it, but whatever you called his ability, it was a deadly power. One that drove Sylar to kill and feed on other's abilities.

Peter knew the only reason he had been safe from Sylar's hunger was that the killer had found out that his empathic ability also came with a price. A price that Sylar wasn't willing to pay.

When they had come face to face for the second time, Sylar had been primed and ready to take his brain and his abilities. Thanks to Mohinder, they had managed to thwart his attempt. Had he known then what he knew now, he would have let Sylar take what he wanted. It might have killed him, even with his healing abilities, but on the other hand, it would have put a stop to Sylar's killing spree.

As an empath, Sylar wouldn't be able to kill with impunity. No, he would empathize with every last one of his victims, whatever guilt he had once felt for the things he'd done would be nothing in comparison to what empathic ability would do to him. He would feel each and every death like it was his own. No doubt, the confliction between his intuitive aptitude and empathic aptitude would likely tear him apart. So Sylar had stopped any attempt to absorb abilities from him even though Peter knew that there were powers he possessed Sylar would give his soul for... if he had one. The complexion of their encounters changed after that.

Sylar was a bad guy, it was never a question for Peter, but he had come to understand the difference between guys that used their abilities to steal, rape, and kill their way through life for the thrill of it and Sylar. In general, Sylar wasn't a threat to the average person. The public at large, was safe, so long as they didn't get in his way. He wasn't so much a criminal as he was a predator. He needed to be handled as such.

"If you kill me, my future-self might decide to leave your ass out here," Peter gestured. "For all we know we could be in the distant past or future. You want me dead so bad you're willing to risk it?"

It was a gamble Peter knew, but he also knew that Sylar was smart and he always did what was best for Sylar, even if it meant backing down... at least for the moment. He couldn't be trusted beyond that.

"So what do you suggest?" Sylar asked with only a hint of disdain in his voice.

Peter motioned to the mountains, "We need water and then food and shelter. We're not going to find it out here on the plains. We get to those mountains and find what we need... together."

Sylar cast a speculative glance in the indicated direction then smirked, "Lead on, MacDuff."

I took a bit of liberty with canon but I think it fits. I also mis-quoted Shakespeare but I think most people would use it as Sylar does and I like the way it plays.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Peter pulled his shirt off and wrapped the arms around his head creating a bandana. It would at least keep the sun off his neck and head. Sweat stained his t-shirt, dripping down his back in rivulets. He glanced over to where Sylar trudged along beside him. He didn't look very well. The drugs combined with the heat, weren't doing him any favors.

Judging by the angle of the sun, it was late afternoon. They had actually made some progress towards the mountain range, but if he was right, Peter estimated it would take another full day of walking to reach their destination. That would mean two days without water. Once they reached the mountains it could be another day or more before they were able to locate anything. There was a probability that one or the other of them might not make it.

He looked at Sylar again. He had to face facts, if he fell behind, Sylar would leave him to his fate without a backwards glance. Would he be able to do the same? He wiped at his neck. No. Maybe Sylar was right. He was an idiot. After all the things that the twisted serial killer had done to him and the people around him, he should want him to suffer and die. But he couldn't hate like that, he just couldn't. And though he would rather not admit it, they all had had a hand in making Sylar what he was today. He wasn't trying to mitigate guilt, it was simply the truth.

Sylar caught the toe of his shoe in the cracked earth and stumbled forward. Without thinking, Peter reached out to steady him, Sylar jerked away from the touch as if he were burned. "Stop staring at me," he announced.

"I wasn't staring.." well ok, maybe he had been staring, a little. Ever since the incidents at Pinehurst and his little sojourn into a now defunct future, Peter's perception of the serial killer had changed. After feeling the hunger for himself, how could it not?

"Can I ask you something?" Peter figured it was safe enough at this juncture. They were both too tired and thirsty to waste energy on fighting.

"No."

"No? Just like that? You don't know what I'm going to say."

Sylar sneered in his general direction, "I don't care what you're going to say."

Peter rolled his eyes. They walked on for another five minutes or so then Peter tried again. "You remember when we were locked up on level five and I told you I'd been to the future?"

It was Sylar's turn to roll his eyes. "The more you talk, the quicker you'll get dehydrated and die..." he smirked, "On second thought, go right ahead."

Sylar moved ahead of him slightly. "I told you, in the future you found a way to suppress..." he paused, "Suppress the hunger. I know you were really trying to change then..."

Sylar stopped suddenly and swung around. Peter jogged backwards a couple of paces. The killer had a calculating expression on his face. "What do you care?"

"I was just curious if you kept trying, you know. To beat it."

Sylar's eyes narrowed, "You were curious? How empathetic of you." He turned and started walking again.

Peter called after him, "I am empathetic actually." Sylar didn't respond. "I felt it too, remember."

"Patronizing little prick!" Sylar rounded on him and he spat, "You spend a whole _day_ with the hunger and you empathize with me!?" Sylar's fingertips started to spark.

"I killed him," Peter offered softly. "Nathan, the Nathan in the future. I couldn't control it, just like you said would happen." Peter voice cracked. He tried to pretend it was just because his throat was dry, "I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't." He didn't know what he expected Sylar to do with the revelation but he shouldn't have been surprised by his response.

Sylar laughed. "Well, well, how the mighty have fallen."

Peter shook his head, "I should have known you'd rub my face in it."

"Then why did you tell me?"

That was a good question. Peter thought about it a moment before answering, "Because, I guess, I knew you were the only one that could understand." He braced himself for the next insult or accusation but Sylar turned away.

"Keep moving."

They returned to walking side by side. The sun was finally starting to set in the west. Peter motioned, "Hey, hold up. Let's rest a few."

Sylar nodded and sat down without preamble, "We should make use of the darkness. There's not much chance we can get hurt, I say we push on tonight."

"Probably a good idea. It won't be as hard on us as the day."

Peter sat about six feet away from Sylar facing him. He had been doing way too much thinking he decided. Either that or the heat was getting to him.

"You're staring again."

"Sorry. I don't mean anything by it."

"Then stop it," Sylar was getting annoyed, his tone easy to read.

Peter looked off into the distance. He didn't know why it had suddenly become important to him to talk to Sylar about what had transpired during the time they had been "brothers" but he realized that it had been weighing heavily on him.

The things he'd done, his mother, his brother, and even his relationship with Sylar. His eyes had been opened to a lot of things during that time. More than anything, he had to take a hard look at what it meant to be good or evil.

Was Sylar evil? Undoubtedly. Peter closed his eyes. But then what did that say about him, his own character? The hunger had brought him to his knees. Where were all his convictions and morals when the hunger called to _him_? When someone like Sylar, who was so despicable, was better able to control his dark impulses than he had been?

Sylar sighed and stretched himself out on the ground. Propping his head on his arms as a pillow, he closed his eyes. Peter took the opportunity to study the man unaware. His past encounters had usually involved a battle of one sort or another. It made it hard to actually take account of the man behind the monster.

The only time they had tried to reach any accord was when Angela had convinced Sylar that he was a Petrelli. His father had been more than willing to perpetuate the lie for his own ends. For himself, Peter had been willing to meet Sylar half-way but through one incident or another he never got the chance to really connect. But now, his future self had given him that second chance.

Peter let his eyes travel. The man was tall and lean yet muscled where he should be. His face was oddly contrasted, in one moment he could be completely frightening and intimidating and the next he could take on the aspect of wide-eyed innocence. It made him a more effective killer, Peter thought. Suresh had found that out the hard way.

Peter often wondered what the extent of their relationship had been. While he understood Mohinder's loathing, there seemed to be more to his reasons than just the murder of his father. There was something else there, something far more... intimate.

"If I have to tell you one more time... I'm going to burn your eyes out," Sylar murmured in a deep, raspy, voice.

He didn't bother to apologize. Peter sighed and stretched out himself. No point in worrying if Sylar would kill him as he rested. It was just as likely that he would die of exposure.

As the sun faded from view, Peter spoke in a low even tone, "It hasn't been the same since then, you know. I haven't been the same. I don't know how you live with it day after day. I understood things that were so far beyond comprehension... but I couldn't see what I was doing was wrong. The simplest things and I couldn't see. I only saw what I wanted, what I needed, and I took it." Peter propped himself up on one arm, "Is that how it is with you? All the time?"

Sylar rolled over so they were facing one another, "What do you want from me, Peter? You want me to bare my soul? I don't have one. Not anymore."

Peter searched Sylar's dark eyes, "Before I felt it, I would have agreed. I did agree that you were nothing more than an abomination, a monster. I don't think that way anymore."

Sylar matched his gaze, "That kind of thinking will get you killed." He rolled over onto his back, "Get some rest."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Amazingly, the overwhelming heat of the day quickly gave way to a north wind that had a distinct cold bite to it. Peter shivered slightly and put his long sleeved shirt back on. Sylar was still lying in the same position with his eyes closed. Peter stretched, his stomach growled loudly at the motion. "Yeah, yeah, settle down. We'll find something," he mumbled.

"Do you often talk to your body parts?" a sarcastic voice inquired. "It's disturbing."

"You're _one_ to be talking about disturbing."

Sylar came to his feet in one swift, fluid motion. Peter scrambled back and to his own feet. "Don't be so jumpy. Your virtue is safe."

Peter couldn't see the smirk but he heard it in the killer's voice just as plainly. The slight innuendo gave him pause. He was imagining it. Sylar was messing with his mind, just because he could. "We should get moving. Make as much time as we can before we have to deal with the heat."

"Whatever you say," Sylar replied amiably.

He decided he didn't like this, not one bit. Sylar had been way too cooperative for his taste. Then again, what else could he do under the circumstances? He was playing along, biding his time until an opportunity presented itself. He would just have to make sure he kept his guard up. Peter started walking.

The moon had risen full and red on the horizon bathing the desert in an eerie light. It looked like they were trekking an alien world. It would be beautiful if the situation wasn't so dire, Peter thought. He inhaled deeply.

"It's beautiful in its own way, isn't it?"

The incongruous comment made Peter pause, he quickly fell back into step, "Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing."

Sylar chuckled, the deep timbre pleasing to the ear, "Think I can't appreciate beauty?"

"I don't know. I never thought about you... just.. you know.." where the hell did he mean to go with this?

"About me being human? Enjoying the same things that others might enjoy?"

"You've always made it pretty clear you were something more than "just" human. I guess, I figured you thought you were above it all."

Sylar shrugged, "Like you said, my ability sometimes makes it hard for me to see simple things for what they are. Doesn't mean that I don't still have human wants and needs."

What was it future Peter had said? In this time period, Sylar was still reachable? He couldn't have more confirmation than Sylar's own admission. It made him wonder, "What is it you want? I mean, what's the end game for you in all of this?"

"What do I want? You know, no one has ever asked me that. People make assumptions but they don't really know me."

"It's not like you're exactly accessible, you know. The whole serial killer thing doesn't put you on the top of anyone's guest list." Peter offered truthfully.

"No, I suppose not," his tone turned biting, "Unless of course, someone needs something from me. Then I'm ever so popular."

Peter couldn't argue the point. Sylar's powers made him a formidable enemy... or ally. "That's why you keep trying, isn't it? With people, I mean. Even when you know you're being used. You still want to be human."

"You can't let it go can you?" there was a weary and sad quality to the killer's tone. "Tell you what. I'll make you a deal. I'll answer your question, if you answer mine first."

"If I can," Peter hedged. One lie could put him right back in Sylar's crosshairs.

"That's a cop-out," Sylar spat. "You've been trying to get information from me since we got here. I want to know what the hell is going on. Why am I here? What is it you want from me this time?"

"I've been telling the truth. I didn't bring us here."

Sylar stopped. "That wasn't the question." Sylar's hands lit up with electric current. "My patience with this game is just about at an end. You wanted me out of the way. Why?"

"What?" Sylar thought it was a conspiracy of some sort. It made sense. "No one is trying to get you out of the way. Take it easy."

A mini lightning bolt hit the ground beneath Sylar's hand and spread out like gnarled fingers caressing the earth. "Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm not!" When had this conversation taken such a deadly turn? Sylar's mood had always been mercurial. Peter was learning just how much. "I don't want to fight with you."

"What is it you want?!" Another bigger bolt poured down into the earth. The smell of ozone now permeated the air around the killer.

Peter took a step back. "I want to get both of us back to where we belong, that's all.

"And where would that be? I belong... Level 5? Prison? Dead? You think I don't know how to evade the truth? I know that game better than anyone." This time the electrical discharge spread out around Sylar in a dazzling and deadly circle. "Try again," the threat was clear.

The hair on Peter's body stood on end. "I want both of us to get home. No one was trying to get you out of the way. There's no plot. I've been trying to learn about you because I thought... I thought maybe, there was something more to you than just a killer. Maybe something worth saving. If you want to fry my ass for reaching out to you, then go ahead. At least then, I'll have my answer."

Sylar's hands continued to sizzle and arch. "Always so noble. Wanting to save a wretch like me," venom dripped from his words. "I know there's something more to all this than what you're telling me. And I know you want something from me. Tell me what it is now and save yourself a lot of pain."

"Is what you see in the mirror so ugly that you can't fathom anyone just wanting to be with you for no other reason than wanting to be with you?" Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

A storm of lightning struck Peter full on and threw him back some twenty feet to land smoking on the dry desert floor. As the pain faded and his flesh mended, Peter looked up to see Sylar standing over him, his breath coming in deep, enraged, gasps, "I'm going to burn you to ash."

There wouldn't be any stopping Sylar this time, Peter knew. He was more pissed off than Peter had ever seen him. "Please," he tried one last time.

Sylar made a move towards him and Peter kicked out at the long legs, tangling them both and pulling Sylar to the ground. The tactic surprised Sylar enough that his hands lost their deadly brilliance.

Peter quickly took the upper hand and rolled himself over on top of the killer attempting to pin his arms. Surprisingly, Sylar responded in kind rather than use any number of abilities. He brought his arm back and landed a satisfying clout to Peter's jaw. Momentarily stunned, Sylar went on the offensive and rolled them back over.

Sylar pulled back for another hit... Pete didn't know what made him do it. It wasn't really a conscious thought. It certainly wasn't a good way to end a fight, in fact, it was a good way to get yourself killed. But one question that had been nagging at him since they had begun this odd journey of theirs would be answered. One way or the other.

Peter reached up and grabbed Sylar by the front of his shirt, leveraging himself up and pulling the killer down. Their lips met in a crushing blow that would leave both of them bruised and bloody. It felt damn good.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Peter secured his hold on Sylar's shirt and mashed their lips together in yet another kind of battle. Sylar, for his part, had gone completely still, rather in shock or amazement Peter wasn't sure, but when he didn't offer resistance, or simply kill him, he took it as a good sign.

Opening his mouth, he brushed his tongue along the man's lips asking for entrance. When it wasn't forthcoming, he nibbled at the full lips more insistently. That got a response.

Sylar reared back, breaking the contact and staring wide-eyed at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he rasped. It was hard to make out his expression in the dim moonlight but Peter could certainly hear the ragged breath. Had he been wrong in thinking that Sylar wanted real human connection?

"I wasn't clear?" Peter brought his hand around to the back of Sylar's neck and drew him down. He looked into the startled brown eyes and saw something very human there. Uncertainty, longing, and... desire. It wasn't the face of an unfeeling monster, it was the face of a man.

"I'm going to kiss you, right now. I'm hoping you won't try and kill me... at least until you know if you like it," Peter offered him a lop-sided grin.

"Why are you doing this?" Sylar whispered.

Peter paused, his face only inches away from the killer. Their breaths intermingled in the dry desert air. "I don't know," was the honest answer.

Sylar looked at him speculatively. Peter leaned in and again brought his lips to Sylar's. This time the man responded in kind. Their tongues began a slow, sensual dance, until they were both breathless and gasping. Peter couldn't help but smile, this was going good, this was going great.

Sylar began caressing his skin. He reached out and took Peter's face between his hands, letting his thumbs draw small circles over his cheeks. Peter smiled up at him, "That was really nice," he offered and meant it.

"It's too bad I don't do nice," Sylar smirked.

Peter frowned, "I don't understand..."

Peter never had a chance to finish the thought before his head was slammed down against the hard desert floor. The back of his head impacted again and again until his ears were ringing and his eyes rolled back.

"You want to play games with me, Peter? Then let's play." Peter felt hands at his belt, it was yanked free with a snap. He felt the leather tighten around his wrists as an invisible force jerked his arms above his head. "You and your friends always seem to want to mindfuck me. How about I just return the favor.. in a more physical way."

His pants were fairly ripped down his legs, his eyes went wide at the implication. My god, he was going to... "No!" Peter shouted, throwing out a telekinetic shot. The impact caught Sylar in the face and he rocked back but recovered quickly. "You'll have to do better than that."

Peter swept out with his ability but this time a blanket of energy wrapped itself around him keeping his kinetic blow from reaching it's intended target. "Now, now, that's not very... nice."

Sylar leaned down and claimed his lips. Peter struggled against him and the killer bit down on his lower lip drawing blood. "Wasn't this what you wanted?" he murmured against his lips. "Didn't you want to get to know me?" Sylar spit out a vicious little chuckle.

"Not like this!" Peter all but shouted.

"I gave you an opportunity to come clean and tell me the truth about why I'm here but you wanted to play games. I'm so fucking sick and tired of you and your sanctimonious friends using me." The serial killer's voice rose to a shout, "Then you have the nerve to call me a monster. I am what you all made me!"

Peter could feel Sylar's rage in the way his body trembled and his eyes flashed. He could also feel his erection pressing against his thigh. One wrong word and something horrible would happen. Peter's voice was soft and steady, "That's a convenient excuse but you're the one about to rape me. No one else. You."

The two men locked eyes for an eternal moment then the pressure around him lifted and Sylar fell back away from him. Peter scrambled backwards clutching at his clothes.

"Still trying to mind-fuck me," Sylar spat. "I should just kill you and be done with it."

"Then why haven't you?"

"Maybe I want to make you suffer."

Peter tugged at his jeans, feeling more sure of himself now that he was covered. Though rationally, he knew that the thin layer of fabric was hardly a determent if Sylar wanted to hurt him in such a way. "Why? Why does it always have to be about pain?"

"What else is there? My pain, your pain. It's all the same in the end." Sylar shook his head slowly, "I'm just tired. Tired of it all. I can't fix it, Peter. I've tried."

Peter rose shakily to his feet. "Fix what?"

Sylar snorted lightly, "Doesn't matter. You wouldn't believe me anyway."

"I might. If you gave me the chance."

Sylar stared at him, "Let me make one thing really clear here, Petrelli. I really hate you. You and all your little do-gooder friends."

"You've made that painfully clear all along."

"And I don't give a fuck what you think about me or the things I've done."

"Also clear."

Sylar lowered his head, "You know, I can't even say that I didn't ask for this... because I did. I always wanted to be special more than anything else in the world. I got my wish, in spades. I'm one of the most powerful people on the planet."

"Then why don't you look all that happy about it?"

"Happiness is for children and fools. You know what they say about being careful what you wish for... I knew there would be a price to pay and I was willing to pay it. No matter what the cost. I just didn't... think.."

"That it would be so lonely." Despite the fact that Sylar had been about to commit another heinous act, he wouldn't back down now. He couldn't. This was as close to the real Gabriel Gray that he had ever been.

"You're so full of shit," Sylar scoffed.

"Am I? You're right. If you're not already the most powerful man on the planet you soon will be and yet it's still not enough. All that power still doesn't fill that hollow place in your soul. Does it."

Sylar just looked at him, "You really don't get it, do you?"

"Then why don't you explain it to me?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Sylar's eyes narrowed, "How stupid do you think I am? Trying to find a vulnerability so you can exploit it, use it against me."

"Being vulnerable is what makes us human. If you lose that then you've truly become a monster." Peter turned away without a backwards glance and resumed walking.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The sun's first rays were peeking over the horizon as they walked. Peter trudged forward, never once looking behind him. Neither of them had said a word in hours. What was there to say after nearly being raped by the serial killer that your future self had sent you to befriend? The whole scenario was ludicrous. Peter wasn't sure who he was more angry with, Sylar, for being Sylar, or his future self for putting him in this situation in the first place.

He wanted to just say "fuck it" and leave Sylar the first chance he got, but in the end, it wouldn't accomplish anything. If he knew himself at all, present or future, he knew that he could be here a long, long time. Future Peter wouldn't come back for him until he had really exhausted all hope. And despite what had happened, Peter knew as surely as anything that Sylar wasn't beyond hope, crazy as that might sound.

The man was dangerous and he could be vicious. He might even possibly be insane but he was still human. That much was obvious. Sylar could have assaulted him. There was nothing to stop him except his own conscience, such as it was. Even in all his obvious rage and pain he chose not to. Still a bad guy? Hell, yes! Unreachable? Maybe not. Peter couldn't believe he was still actually considering that as possible.

The landscape before them was subtly changing. The terrain now sloped at a slight upwards angle. There was more vegetation than before, though the pathetic shrubs could hardly be classified as more than weeds. Peter stopped and dragged his arm across his face. He glanced back to where Sylar had stopped about ten feet behind him. "Another few hours."

Sylar nodded at him. He leaned over and placed his hands against his bended knees.

"You all right?"

Sylar looked up. "You're not seriously asking me that."

"Yeah, I am. You don't look so good and I don't relish the idea of carrying you."

"Like that would happen." Sylar stretched, cracking his back.

"You think I would leave you out here to die?" Why shouldn't he? Because it wouldn't be the end of it, not by a long shot, that's why. And it wouldn't be right. Sylar was in this situation because of him. The killer's reaction to being whisked away was hardly surprising.

"If you have a single brain cell you should," Sylar stated, "And you know it."

"I'm not going to leave anyone out in the desert to die, not even you."

"What will it take, Peter? Huh? Before you get it through that thick head of yours that some people can't be saved. No matter what you do, they can't be saved."

"You're right. You're absolutely right. Sometimes you can't save people. But that doesn't mean you give up. Not if there is a chance in a million, you don't.. give.. up." Peter looked away, "Maybe, I haven't given up on you."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever..."

"Shut-up. I don't want to hear it." Peter started walking again.

A single, generous eyebrow quirked upwards, "Did you just tell me to shut-up?" Sylar shuffled along behind him.

"I did. Given our current condition, I thought it a fair assumption that you wouldn't kick my ass over it." Peter stopped and turned to face the killer head-on. "Am I wrong?"

Sylar seemed to be accessing him. He fervently hoped that he was right and Sylar wasn't spoiling for yet another fight. He didn't think either one of them would make it another round.

"Nah, maybe later, thanks for the offer though," Sylar snarked.

Peter shook his head, "Anytime."

Sylar started to chuckle and Peter looked at him askew. "The heat finally melt your brain?"

"You don't see the humor in this?"

Pete came to a stand-still. "No, Sylar, I can't say as I'm seeing anything funny in our current predicament. Unless I'm missing something in being lost, god knows where, and when, trapped with someone who would like nothing better than to render you down to your base constituents, then no, I don't see the humor."

Sylar turned away from him, shaking his head.

"Can we please just..."

Sylar was still facing away from him but his shoulders had started to shake. "What? What!? Are you laughing? What's so funny?!" Peter demanded. The killer had really lost his mind, Peter thought. No more than a few hours ago they'd been in a life and death struggle. Sylar had nearly sexually assaulted him and now he thought this was funny?

Sylar now had his arms wrapped around his stomach and was laughing his head off. "You and me.. middle of nowhere.. cause _you_ dumped us here." Sylar pointed at him, "And you kissed me."

"I'm too tired to kick your ass, you know."

"As if you could," Sylar broke out in another fit of laughter.

What the hell, it was infectious. A smile caught the corners of Peter's mouth causing it to twitch upwards. The absurdity of the whole situation was either funny or insanity inducing. Peter decided Sylar had the right idea. He started to chuckle and then broke out into stress reducing laughter, or maybe it was just plain hysteria, he speculated. Whatever it was, it felt like just what they both needed.

After a few moments they both laughed themselves out. "Oddly enough, I feel better," Peter noted with a smile.

Sylar cocked his head, "Only you Peter, only you."

"Hey, you started it."

Sylar nodded, "Yeah, I did." He looked toward the mountains that now loomed large. "What happens if we get there and there's no water? Then what?"

Peter's expression sobered, "Then we die... again and again until find some."

"That's a cheery prospect."

"You have a better idea, I'm all ears."

"Sorry, fresh out, he shrugged. "Besides you're the one that got us into this, you get us out."

Peter crossed his arms over his chest, "My future self did this, not me."

Sylar cocked his head, "And the difference would be?"

"He's not me!"

"Not yet."

"Maybe not ever. The future is fluid. We can influence change. I don't have to become him anymore than you..."

"Anymore than me, what? Is that what this is about? Did your future self tell you something about what's going to happen? Something I'm going to do? Fuck me, that's it isn't it. Your future self is trying to stop me from doing something. What is it this time? New York? LA?"

Peter shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Sylar held his arms out and turned in a circle. "Have you looked around lately, Peter. What was it you said? God knows where, god knows when. You and I are a couple of mutants trapped in an alternate reality by a future version of yourself. Given the last four years, I doubt there's much I wouldn't believe."

Peter sighed, he had a point. "Honestly, I'm not even sure what this is all about. Look, you can tell when I'm lying and when I'm not. Will just accept that whatever my future version reasons were for doing this, that they weren't intended to hurt you, to cause you any harm? Can we leave it at that for the time being?"

Sylar was giving him that "I'm dissecting you with my mind" look. He frowned, "I know you're not lying, Peter, but whatever your reasons, you're not here to help me so..."

"How do you know that? Huh? Maybe that's exactly what I'm trying to do but my future self knows you would never accept it so we get dumped in the middle of fucking nowhere!" Peter's voice rose, "With no way back and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to be doing!"

Sylar's eyes widened slightly, "Seriously? Oh, for fuck sake. Please tell me that your future self isn't trying to play Pollyanna with me."

"Let's make a deal. We find water so we don't repeatedly die and then I'll tell you what I know."

The killer's eyes narrowed and for a moment Peter thought he would just fry him for his trouble. "We find water and you tell me a story. That's the deal..." Sylar stalked ahead, and tossed back over his shoulder, "After that, all bets are off."

The sun continued its inexhaustible rise and they continued their exhausting trek. The smooth hard baked clay gave way to a soft sandy incline as they reached the base of the mountains. Both men were hot, dirty, and exhausted. This was the second day without water and it was taking a toll.

Peter trudged over to a medium sized scrub brush and lowered himself none too gently into its shadow. "This has to be a good sign." He mopped his face with his hand. "The increased vegetation," he clarified but Sylar didn't seem to be paying any attention.

"Did you hear that?"

Peter looked around, "Hear what?" He paused; the desert was silent except for an occasional low mournful breeze.

"I heard something."

"Yeah well, you have super hearing. Probably just some animal. Probably miles away."

Sylar turned his head this way and that, his expression grew hard.

"Don't be so paranoid. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." Sylar pointed himself in one direction and then another. "It's this way," he indicated with a nod.

"Is it water," Peter hoped.

Sylar cocked his head, "I don't know. It's still pretty far away but it almost sounds like wind through trees and if there are trees then I'm thinking water has to be close, right?"

Peter squinted his eyes and looked out in the same direction. "I don't suppose you can tell how far we're talking about here?"

"I have my hearing ability wide open so it could be miles."

"Can you see anything?"

"Too many hills. I can't see through solid objects."

"We may only get one chance at this before we succumb." Peter looked first in one direction then the other. "I think, you're our best chance."

Sylar quirked an eyebrow, "Then we are seriously screwed. I don't do hero very well."

"Maybe not, but you are a survivor and if anyone can get us through this, then it will be you."

"Us?" An oily smile slid across Sylar's lips, "Remind me again why I need you?"

Peter frowned. Well, that hadn't taken long. Sylar was already planning on how to get rid of him.

"Lighten up, Petrelli. You're making it too easy."

"Excuse the hell out of me if I'm not sure the dangerous killer is joking about when he's going to try and kill me again."

"Believe me, you'll know when I decide to kill you."

"Something else to look forward to… My day just wasn't complete."

"I never knew you had such a sarcastic sense of humor." Sylar looked him up and down. "I like it." Sylar turned on his heel and started walking.

Peter dragged himself to his feet, "Wait up."

Less than an hour later they crested a small hill and came to a stop. "I'll be damned." A vista opened up on a small valley of green. Full trees and beautiful green grass flowing through meadows of yellow flowers. "You did it. You really did it. We found our Eden." Peter smiled and clapped Sylar on the shoulder. "Race you!"

Peter charged off down the hill. Sylar watched him thoughtfully. "You really should remember what happened in Eden, Peter." Then sauntered after him.


	8. Chapter 8

It took them about half an hour to locate the stream running west through the valley. They drank their fill and then cleaned up. Peter lay back against a large oak comfortably dozing. Logically, he knew it was risky to relax but physically he was too tired to care. If Sylar wanted to kill him right now, he didn't even think he'd bother trying to get up. Peter looked over to where Sylar lay in the grass. He looked like he was napping as well. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady.

He wished he could say that the killer looked innocent as he slept but that wasn't the case. He still looked every bit as dangerous as he knew Sylar to be. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Before, they were in a life or death situation, there was little time for anything else, which both helped and hindered his cause. Now that they weren't under imminent threat of death from exposure, what should he do? And how long would it be before Sylar decided he _really_ didn't need to have him around anymore. Peter chewed on his lip. Right now, all he could think of, was getting some rest.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A chill in the air brought Peter awake. He stretched and looked around... then sat bolt upright. Sylar was nowhere to be seen. He spun around in a circle. No reason to panic, not yet. He could be looking around or just call of nature. _Or he left you here alone,_ his mind unhelpfully supplied. Though, if Sylar had decided to take off, he should just be grateful that he was still alive.

After surveying the immediate area and turning up no sign, Peter decided there was nothing more to be done about it at the moment. He was gone. He looked up at the sky, the sun was low against the horizon. It would be dark very soon and the air was already cooling. It might be nice to have a fire. It would be even nicer to have something to cook in the fire. His stomach no longer growled but he felt it gnawing away at his insides.

He sighed, looking around again. "Damn it, Sylar," he muttered. Shaking his head, Peter headed towards the nearest thicket of trees. There should be plenty of dead wood that would burn well. He walked slowly. He was angry, not with Sylar, but with himself. His future self was a class A prick. How could he do this? He was clearly desperate his empathic side supplied. Desperation made people do foolish things. Of that, he had firsthand experience. He started picking up branches and twigs. He could be here a long, long time. Alone.

The sun had begun to set. Peter lugged the heavy armload of wood back to the campsite. He tossed the wood down and selected a few choice pieces plus some kindling. He made a nice pyre and ignited it. He leaned back against the nearest tree trunk. The soft crackles and pops were relaxing, he soon closed his eyes.

In his dream, he was fishing with Nathan on the Colorado River. His brother was smiling at him as he cast his line into the cold waters. Peter was anxious to catch something, he was hungry. Suddenly, they were in a cabin and Nathan was frying up a big catfish. The smell made his mouth water... the smell.

Peter sat up with a start. The aroma of cooking fish permeated the air. "I thought you were gonna miss dinner. Jesus, Petrelli, you sleep like the dead," a sardonic voice offered. "Miss me?"

Sylar stuck a stick with a fish on it in front of his face.

"Were you gone?" he asked, trying to keep the relief out of his tone. He gingerly took the fish. "Thanks."

"Yeah, I followed the water upstream. It opens out into a small lake which luckily for us seems well stocked."

"Any sign of civilization? Fences? Power lines? Cattle?"

"Do you think I would have come back if there were? There's nothing out there. No signs of anything. It's kinda creepy, actually." Sylar sat across from him and picked up another fish skew and started eating. "Not bad, if I do say so myself."

Peter bit into a small piece of meat. They had no seasoning but the meat was juicy and flavorful. It had been filleted to perfection, not a bone in sight. He didn't want to think about the ability Sylar used to cut with such precision.

"At the risk of adding to your already overinflated ego, it's really good." They ate for a few moments in silence then he offered, "Thanks again. Not just for the fish."

Sylar paused mid-bite. "Aw, you really did miss me. I guess even a monster is better than being alone, huh Petrelli?"

"Come on," Peter sighed.

"Four days in the trenches doesn't mean that we're friends. You know it and I know it."

"Yeah well, maybe it doesn't have to be that way." It sounded lame even to his own ears. The whole situation was untenable. Reality was reality. Sylar was the bad guy and that wasn't going to change and as one of the good guys, he couldn't simply just stand by and let bad things happen.

Sylar snorted in derision, "This truce was born out of necessity, but when we get back to where we belong, things will be the same as they always have been. I don't have a problem with that."

"Maybe you should!" Peter stood and paced around the fire. "The things you've done are... beyond reason. But I know now what lead you down that path. What they did to you was wrong. It was horrific. Somebody should acknowledge that."

"Don't go there, Peter."

"Why not? It's the truth."

"Because it won't change anything. They wanted to create a monster and they did but unfortunately someone forgot that monsters turn on their masters. That's the hand that Fate dealt me." He shrugged, "I've given up trying to fight it."

"Don't! Keep fighting. For as long as it takes."

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Enough. Just tell me. You owe me the truth so let's hear it. What big bad did I do that has your future self in such a lather? Why am I here?"

Peter sat back down and ran his hands over his head. He owed the man the truth. Hiding it wasn't going to do anyone any good at this point. "Alright. I'll tell you what little I know. What future me said…"

Sylar leaned back. "This should be good."

"You become all powerful just like you always wanted. Only whatever you thought that power would bring you, it didn't. You're miserable and alone."

Sylar's curious expression closed off and his face became stone.

Peter turned and faced him directly, "What is it you want? Can you tell me? Do you know?"

Sylar scowled, "You're the one doing the talking. I want some answers."

"I told you. My future self said you become a massively destructive force but in the future you've lost everything...," he swallowed hard, "...that made you human. There's nothing left but a monster."

Sylar didn't respond for a long moment. When he did, his voice was as devoid of emotion as his expression. It made Peter's blood run cold. "That doesn't explain why your future Pollyanna decided to kidnap me, bring me here, and make me put up with your ass."

Peter looked away, "He did it because he knows that I, that I could… given some change, I mean, if you were willing... I could… have feelings for you." He took a deep breath, "I don't want you to become that, Sylar. Despite the monstrous things you've done, I know that you still have a soul."

When he wasn't hit with a bolt of energy, Peter took it as a good sign and continued, "I know you don't want to talk about the past but listen to me, please. I've changed. I've grown. I understand that things aren't black and white." He swallowed hard, it needed to be said, "That doesn't mean that I condone what you do or that... I could stand by while someone is hurt... because I won't. I just..." Peter threw up his hands. "I don't know what the hell I mean."

Sylar tossed his fish stick into the fire and turned away.

"Please, don't leave," Peter breathed.

The man's shoulders tensed. Sylar turned slowly back, "You know the thing about Fate? It's a real bitch. It doesn't matter what either of us may want. Like I said before, it is what it is." His voice finally registered the utter grief that he felt, "My path is already carved in stone. Your future self confirmed it."

Peter stomped forward, "Fuck Fate. You've never let anyone stand in the way of what you want. So why would you start now? You want me, Sylar? Then fucking fight for me." Peter grabbed him by the arms and pulled them taut. They stood chest to chest, breathing each other's air. "Nothing is impossible, you and I are living proof of that. If you can't find faith then I'll have faith enough for the both of us. Can you subdue the monster inside you? If not for yourself, for me? For us?"

Sylar's eyes had gone wide whether from his words or his proximity he wasn't sure but he had to make him see, this might be their last chance. "You know I'm not lying. I mean what I say. I'm willing to try. Are you?"

Sylar was shaking his head, trying to pull away. His expression looked frantic. Peter realized he was afraid. The super-powered serial killer was afraid. It wasn't hard to guess why.

Every time that Sylar had tried to reach out to someone for help, he'd been betrayed until at some point, he'd given up trying. With each murder tearing away a little more of his humanity, his heart hardened and his mind twisted. His future self had been right. This was the last and only chance left. If Sylar wouldn't take it then he was as doomed as the world he condemned. There was only one thing he could think to say.

"Wanna go on a date?" Peter grinned.

If only he'd had a camera, the expression on Sylar's face was priceless. "You are out of your fucking mind. The two of us? How could you possibly think… why would you even…" Sylar stuttered out. "You're just trying to pacify me. That's all this is, keep me on a leash just like Angela tried."

Sylar again tried to put some distance between them but Peter stepped with him when he moved, not offering him any respite. "Look at me!" Peter shouted in his face. "You're right, I don't want the world to die. Hardly a surprise. But if you think I would commit to this just to pacify you then you're wrong. You.. are.. _wrong_!"

"Then why?" Sylar questioned softly.

"I don't think you'll understand this because I don't understand it myself but I know in my heart that this is the right thing. That you and I together, is where I should be. You believe in Fate? Well, I'm telling you, this is my Fate."

Peter dropped his arms and took a step back. It was all up to Sylar now. "What's your answer?"

The lingering silence was deafening. Sylar cocked his head, and their eyes locked. Finally, he took a deep breath and replied, "You buying?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o


End file.
